


lack of sleep

by hollowbirds (torturousthings)



Series: Prompts [2]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torturousthings/pseuds/hollowbirds
Summary: 36. “Did I say that out loud?”Band rehearsals are bound to go badly if Ryan doesn't get enough sleep.But then again, it's all a question of subjectivity.





	lack of sleep

Spencer was lying on the couch, a few feet away from where he was supposed to be, which was behind his drum kit. 

 

“Can we take a breaaaak?” he yawned, and Brent sat down on his amp, the bass hanging in front of him, threatening to hit anyone that came too close. 

 

“Yeah, man,” the bassist said, running a hand through his greasy hair. “We need a break.” Brendon looked up from where he was crouching, trying to fix the wires. He didn’t look pleased.

 

“C’mon, guys, seriously? We’ve just started,” he said, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. Ryan didn’t say anything, and Spencer sighed very, very loudly. 

 

“Fine, just go,” Brendon spat, bending his head back over the floor. Spencer let out something that sounded like “whoop” and sprang up from the couch, renewed energy clearly flowing through him. He disappeared through the garage door, followed by Brent, who’d left his instrument on the floor next to the amp he’d been sitting on. Brent never really cared about his bass. 

 

Ryan walked over to the discarded instrument and picked it up, setting it on its stand. He couldn’t bear seeing something so precious being left on the floor like an old rag. He then went to the couch Spencer had been lying on moments before, and sat down. He really would help Brendon if he could, but his skills in the technical side of music that didn’t involve frets were cruelly lacking. So he just looked. 

 

Brendon looked good, even if he was soaked in sweat. His jeans hung low on his hips, revealing a strip of skin between the waistband and where his t-shirt started. 

 

“What?” The boy looked up and Ryan blinked, once, twice, before realising what had just happened.

 

“What?” He repeated, confused. 

 

“What did you just say?” 

 

“I— Did I say that out loud?” Ryan felt his cheeks burn up. This is what happened when he didn’t get enough sleep at night. Brendon smirked. 

 

“Yeah, you did,” he said. “I know most people think I’m hot but I didn’t know you thought that too.” 

 

“Don’t let it get to your head, Urie,” Ryan countered as the garage door slammed open once again, Spencer singing _Mr Brightside_ loudly. “You’re still not fucking me.” 

 

“We’ll see about that,” Brendon smiled and went back to his fiddling as if nothing had happened. 

 

Nothing had happened, right?


End file.
